


a place with some nice views

by dhils



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, summer vacay n the beach!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-05-14 16:14:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19276879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dhils/pseuds/dhils
Summary: “You need to wear more sunscreen,” Charlie says. “You’re burnt.”Jake scrunches his nose at him. It’s red. “I’m not, though.”





	a place with some nice views

**Author's Note:**

> the beach! i love the beach:)
> 
> title frm seigfried by frank ocean

That night, they stay up late to hear the moon sing.

Jake’s smile is brighter and warmer than all the stars in the sky. Charlie looks at him and sees the universe. 

He does not flicker out, even as the sun does. 

 

 

Early in the morning, the clouds are cotton candy dancing across a sea of pink. Jake’s cheeks are the same rosy tint when his eyes meet Charlie’s.

“You need to wear more sunscreen,” he says, in lieu of anything else. “You’re burnt.” 

Jake scrunches his nose at him. It’s red. “I’m not, though.” 

Charlie lightly taps the apple of his cheek, where the skin has barely faded from pink. The same shade as the curve in Jake’s lips. The sky. His shoulders. “Exhibit A,” he argues. “Sunscreen. I’m spraying you with it the second we get back to our room.”

“That’s not fair,” Jake protests. “You gotta warn me before you do it. Let me prepare.”

“Won’t be an ambush if you see it coming,” Charlie says.

Jake makes a noise in disagreement, but he still leans into Charlie’s space. 

 

 

He curls his fingers into the sand and he isn’t sure why he does it because the grains prick his skin like thorns. He doesn’t let go.

Jake shows up next to him, standing above him and tipping his head just into the line of Charlie’s sight. His face is an outline against the blue sky. 

“Are you done sleeping,” he isn’t asking. It teeters more on the edge of a threat, like he’ll kick Charlie onto his feet if he has to. 

“I’m not sleeping,” Charlie insists. “I’m taking this in. Getting to be here with you.” He sits up, smiling up at Jake, and for a moment, Jake’s expression melts into something affectionate.

But, “nice try, asshole. If you don’t get up I’m dumping a pail of water on you. You know I will.” 

Charlie feels a laugh bubble up in his throat, but he gets up in fear of being soaked anyways.

 

 

Jake says good morning to the waves, and they will not remember him, but Charlie knows the ocean will. 

They pick up seashells along the coastline and Jake finds a shell that he immediately claims is the exact same colour as Charlie’s eyes. 

His face goes hot as he watches Jake drop the shell into the pocket of his boardies. He has this proud look on his face and Charlie doesn’t say a thing, but he thinks it might be because he’s afraid of swallowing his own tongue. 

“I think it’s beautiful,” Jake adds, and that definitely makes it worse. 

 

 

The waves collapse against the sand as these great walls of aquamarine. Everything from the shore is swallowed up, leaving nothing but damp sand and pebbles. 

The air smells like ocean water and salt. Jake’s lips taste like chocolate ice cream.

“Oh, shit,” Jake says, helpfully, and gestures to Charlie’s cone. Where the strawberry ice cream is leaving a sticky trail down the side of his hand. 

Charlie goes to lick at it, but Jake grabs his wrist. His hand is so very soft

“Hold on,” he says, smiling. When their gazes meet, his eyes are the most beautiful things in the world. Kind and careful. “I like strawberry.”

 

 

One night, it rains. Hard. The breeze that floats into their room is cool, and Jake sits next to the window like he’s never seen water in his life. 

His eyes are fixated to the window pane. His cheeks are still pink. Charlie watches because he’s no better.

Jake pats the spot on the floor next to him and Charlie goes despite himself. He pulls his knees into his chest and feels the lightest spray of water from the open window.

“Thank you,” Jake says, quiet. Charlie doesn’t know what for. He isn’t sure how to ask. 

He says, “yeah,” anyways, and stays still as Jake wilts against his shoulder. 

They don’t speak much, not underneath the companionable silence. Charlie stays sitting next to Jake and feels warmth blossom from somewhere deep in his chest. Outside, rain pitter-patters. It‘s enough. 

 

 

Their umbrella paints a rainbow across Jake’s skin. Reds and oranges and yellows, he looks like a sunrise. 

He smiles like the sun. He always does. 

“I never learned how to surf,” Jake says, falling back against the towel they’ve laid out. “Pretty much landlocked most of my life, rough childhood.” 

Charlie chuckles to himself. He traces patterns across the leg Jake has bent. A _73_ into the skin of his calf. 

“Shut _up_ ,” Jake says.

“Did I even say anything.” 

“Your face is really loud when you’re being judgemental, still haven’t gotten used to it.” Jake’s looking up at him and Charlie hasn’t gotten used to a lot of him yet either. 

He hasn’t gotten used to the attention, or how his pulse can just jump into his throat, or the way one look from Jake can flip his day on its head. He doesn’t think he wants to get used to it. 

“I’m from a beach town, y’know. I’m allowed to think it’s kinda funny that you’ve been around actual water basically never.” 

“Fine,” Jake says, and huffs. “Teach me how to surf, then.” 

“You wanna learn?” Charlie touches Jake’s knee. The umbrella shines orange light onto it.

“It would kinda feel like cheating on hockey, though. You know what I mean?” Jake chews on the corner of his lip. “Like, who would I even be at that point? Generic surfer junky number two?”

Charlie scoffs. “Still a city boy.” 

“ _Hey._ ” 

“It’s true,” he says.

Jake pulls a face at that, disapproving, and Charlie dips in to kiss the twist of his mouth. He knows him well enough to know that’s just how to get through to him.

 

 

Jake launches himself off the edge of the dock without a second’s warning. Charlie glances over his shoulder one second  
and the next, Jake’s diving into the impossibly blue water. 

Charlie sits down at the edge of the dock, dipping his feet into the water. He waits patiently for Jake’s head to spring up. 

“Fuck, _fuck_ , it’s cold—it’s so cold, oh my god,” Jake hisses, the second Charlie sees his face. His lashes are wet and clumped together and his eyes are shot red like he tried opening them underwater. 

Charlie’s seen that look a million times, just in different circumstances. He tries slowing his breathing. His legs are freezing. 

“Wanna come up?” He asks.

Jake puts a hand on Charlie’s thigh, and when he smiles his eyes are laughing up at him. He looks gorgeous like this. “You think I’m some kind of coward?” 

“Suit yourself,” Charlie says, lazily leaning back onto the palms of his hands. “I’ll just be nice and warm up here all alone.” 

Jake says, “jackass,” and tugs him down into the water.

 

 

The bonfire crackles. The moon doesn’t say much that night. 

The light of the fire is dim against Jake's face, and Charlie turns just to press his lips to the golden skin on his jaw. Jake smiles down at the s’more in his hand. 

“These are good,” he comments, and Charlie agrees with a quiet hum.

“Would be better if you knew how to roast marshmallows without burning them.” 

“I am _not_ burning them,” Jake returns, but the proof is in the two burnt marshmallows they’ve already hidden away in napkins. 

Charlie raises his brows at him. 

Jake looks down at his hands, at Charlie’s mouth, and when he kisses him, he tastes like chocolate. 

“Was that supposed to be a distraction?” Charlie asks.

“Yeah.” Jake lifts his shoulders in a shrug. “Did it work?” 

“I dunno. Wanna make sure?” 

 

 

“Stop swinging,” Charlie says gently, and Jake curls further into his side which sways the hammock even more. He laughs into the skin on his shoulder. 

Charlie rolls his eyes. It’s undoubtedly fond. 

“‘m not,” Jake mumbles, tucking his face into the crook of Charlie’s neck, right where it fits perfectly. “You’re just really warm. I like it.“

Charlie weaves an arm around his waist. “Okay, okay, you got me,” he says, and Jake gives him this triumphant little laugh. 

He clings to his side and underneath the sun it’s too hot, too warm, but Charlie can’t find it in himself to peel away. He’s never been great at denying Jake of things anyways.

 

 

It doesn’t take long for them both to get wasted off some sweet tropical drinks and fall asleep laughing into each other’s mouths. 

It’s light and easy and Jake lips are stained red. Charlie’s watches and watches and watches until he can’t keep his eyes open anymore.

 

 

Way too early, maybe 6 AM, Jake stumbles into their room with a bowl full of fruit. It’s a blur of reds, purples, and yellows, but it’s definitely not the first thing Jake would reach for at a continental breakfast. 

Charlie tries blinking the sleep out of his eyes, but the headache in his temple is thrumming viciously and he can barely keep his eyes open under the light. 

“Hey, babe,” Jake’s voice comes, after the light thump of glass against their bedside table. “Wakey, wakey, c’mon.” 

Charlie peels his eyes open to the room awash in this dull pink light, all through the split in the curtains, and it isn’t harsh, wouldn’t normally be harsh, but. 

“Too much to drink last night, I know.” Jake’s fingers card through his hair, soft enough that he can barely feel the stroke of his hand. “I brought you tea with some honey. It’ll be good for you.” 

Charlie grunts. “Five minutes.” 

“You’ve got a buffet of hangover food right here, c’mon.” Jake gently pulls at his arm. “Up.” 

Charlie’s opens his eyes to Jake looking at him with the most delicate expression he’s ever seen. These calm eyes and the quietest bend in his lips and Charlie hurts _everywhere_.

He scoots up against the headboard and takes the mug Jake hands him. “Thanks,” he mumbles, and feels Jake sink into his side. 

He’s got his bowl of fruit in his lap.

“Yeah,” Jake says, and kisses his shoulder.

 

 

Jake gets a blue straw for his coconut because it’s the same colour as the ocean. His little umbrella is yellow and Jake doesn’t explain that part but Charlie thinks he can figure it out. 

“Try this, holy shit,” Jake insists, shoving the coconut into Charlie’s free hand, and Charlie blanks for a minute.

“Coconut water doesn’t vary in flavour, y’know, I have my own,” he explains, lifting his own coconut as if Jake hadn’t already seen it.

“It tastes better out of a blue straw,” Jake insists, and Charlie humours him enough to try it anyways. 

A little too late, he realizes that it’s empty. Completely. 

Charlie pulls back to see Jake smiling through a stolen sip from Charlie’s coconut water, and he laughs, pulling it away. “Smooth,” he says, playfully knocking an elbow against his ribs. “You know I thought you were going crazy, right?”

He hands the empty coconut back to Jake. Jake’s grinning. “I mean, I wasn’t wrong,” he insists. 

 

 

They walk out to the beach late at night and the air is chilly enough that they’ve both got jackets on, but Jake’s got this too big Budweiser tee hanging from his chest, too. Charlie can’t help but look at how he’s practically drowning underneath it, all with this pleasant look on his face. He’s just. 

The sky is dark and the water is this inky black. They walk down the dock hand in hand with nothing but quiet words between them.

Jake says, “it’s a nice night,” and he pauses. Says, “you really made it a nice night, actually.” 

Charlie wants to laugh at that. He wants to tell him he’s being mushy or cheesy and that this isn’t a drugstore romance novel. 

He blinks up at the sky. “You don’t have to say that.”

Jake stops walking. They’re near the edge. There’s a single lamp lighting up the expanse of the dock and its glow barely reaches them. 

“ _Charlie_ ,” he says, quietly, and Charlie can barely get over the way his name sounds on Jake’s tongue. He doesn’t know what to make of it or what it means, but his heart pounds against his ribs just at that. 

Jake squeezes his hand and Charlie thinks he gets it.

 

 

Jake carries the sunlight from the sky in his eyes. It’s in his words and his smile and burning under his touch. 

His fingers are hot, hot, hot as they drag across Charlie’s skin. Beneath them, he can hardly breathe. 

“Jake,” he pleads, muffled by the darkness. His words are barely there in the stardust that creeps in through their windows. “Please.” 

“I know,” Jake assures him, just as quiet, and Charlie can feel his lips on his neck. They’re warm, like reaching for the sun. 

He swallows hard and wishes he could stay here forever. 

 

 

Jake says, “I love you,” for the very first time while he’s pressed in next to him in a hotel somewhere far, far away from Boston. It’s pretty on his lips, beautiful in his voice. 

Charlie’s heart is soft and turns to slush.

“I love you, too,” he says, and takes Jake’s hand in his, each finger intertwined.

Everything smells like the ocean, carried in through the wind that knocks against the windows. It’s salty on his tongue, something he’s become used to. It’s home.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[podfic] A Place With Some Nice Views](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21901819) by [Annapods](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annapods/pseuds/Annapods)




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